Dumbledore, Removed
by Remembrance
Summary: Harry, Ron and Hermione return to school in their fifth year to find the only concrete thing in their lives is amiss.
1. They Arrive, They Cry

Summary: Harry, Hermione and Ron return to Hogwarts in their sixth year to find that the only concrete thing in their lives is

**Dumbledore, Removed**

**Part One**

** **

**Summary: Harry, Hermione and Ron return to Hogwarts in their fifth year to find that the only concrete thing in their lives is amiss**.

Posted ???

Author's Note: I own no one and nothing, except for a few characters that will be popping up randomly, but even they are based on ideas by J.K. Rowling, author of this whole beautiful series.  But if you don't already know that, one might wonder why you are even here.  Harry Potter fanfiction is wasted on non-enthusiasts. I haven't written in a very, very long time.  This idea came to me just after I was finished writing my Time Told series, which can be found on my web page. All right then, on with the very-un-my-style piece of work…viola!

            Harry, Hermione and Ron all sighed at the compartment door slid shut with an angry **thwack**.  Hermione miserably stared at her hands while Ron threw a string of curses to the walls, under his breath.  Harry simply looked out the window, hoping the train ride would be over soon.  They had been told off for fighting.

            "Well," said Hermione in a small voice, "This is a lovely way to start off a year.  A detention!  And we're not even in the CASTLE yet!"  Her voice cracked a little as she pulled her knees up and glared at the scenery outside.

            "Oh, hush up, Hermione…you're upset over anything that marks up your bloody perfect record."

            "Don't get sore at me!  I wasn't the one who punched you…is it really that hard to remember?  Malfoy and I don't hold a large resemblance!"  Hermione spat her words angrily, but in a hissed tone, so as not to attract the attention of the witch who pushed the snack cart.  Harry made an impatient noise and turned his thoughts back to the whispered row his two best friends were having.

            "Both of you, pipe down!" he burst out, and they fell silently back, alternating glares at Harry and glares at each other.  Harry sighed and thought back to the way the train ride had begun.

Twenty Minutes Earlier…

"Well, well, well.  Look what we have here…" Draco trailed off, his predictable and old-as-dirt comment bouncing around the compartment and the heads of the three friends seated inside.  Know-it-all Granger was already reading her course books, while Potty and the Weasel were playing a game of Exploding Snap on the bench across from her.  On spotting him, however, the two boys stood up, fire in their eyes and oblivious to the girl who had a hand on each other their backs, holding them steady.

            "Welcome back," spat Ron, his face nearly matching his hair.  Harry was equally enraged, although Draco found it interesting that his anger was all hands and lips.  Bloodless lips and bloodless knuckles.  Ron plunged on.  "Did you have a good break?  I can see it now…Monday: Malfoy lies out on the beach.  Tuesday: Malfoy plays a nice game of cricket.  Wednesday: Malfoy has a little meeting with You-Know-Who.  Thursday: Malfoy goes horseback riding.  Friday: Malfoy watches PEOPLE DIE!"  Hermione was positively straining now to grasp the boys' back.  Draco gave an indignant huff.

            "Well, I never!  How dare you insinuate such things!  You all know perfectly well that I do NOT play cricket!" 

Everyone in the compartment was agreed; there wasn't any doubt that Draco had been an active part in the Muggle and half-blood killings over the summer.   Hermione scowled and looked like she was debating letting Ron and Harry go, but Draco didn't let the alarm show on his face.  No need to let them know that Crabbe and Goyle weren't available right now.  All he allowed through were the thick waves of smug glee.  What did they really expect?  Voldemort had to leave _some_ sort of calling card.

            "I've said it before and obviously I'll have to say it again.  You can think anything you want, but you're the last person I would enlighten as to my summer whereabouts.  I'll give you one tip though," Draco paused, suddenly grinned wickedly and raising his eyes past Ron's heaving figure to the struggling girl in the background.  "I would keep this one accounted for.  After all, it was her kind that was getting massacred out there.  And we wouldn't want anything to happen, would we?" 

 There was dead silence for a beat, then a roar that rocked the sliding glass-paned door.  Hermione had let Ron and Harry loose, and with them, it seemed all the powers of hell.  Standing a bit back, Hermione watched the revolving mass of limbs.  Yelps and sharp sounds of skin-on-skin contact punctuated her silence; it was the first time she had ever approved of fighting.  But the summer had been one of firsts. 

            The sound of approaching authority snapped her into action.  She sent off a few disarming spells with her wand, but she was too afraid of hurting Ron or Harry to do anything further.  There was a rap on the glass, and Hermione looked nervously up to see Ryan Brunet, the new Head Boy.  She gulped and stepped back from the still-strong tangle of limbs, thinking guiltily of the Prefect badge pinned to her robes, but Ryan had already opened the door and yelled darkly into the compartment.  In a flash the Harry and Ron were pinned to different corners of the small room, with Hermione standing like a deer in headlights towards the middle.  Draco sniggered from his hiding place, four compartments away.  Yes, a lot of his training was going to come in handy…

__"I can't BELIEVE he didn't believe me!" raged Hermione, speaking of Brunet's little speech once the dust had cleared.  There had been harsh words and a great deal of confusion as the three tried desperately to convince Brunet that Malfoy had been in the room.  The anger grew as Brunet became sure that Harry, Ron and Hermione were being fresh to him, to avoid punishment, and his first act as Head Boy was the giving of three detentions, one of them being to a brand-new Prefect.  Hermione was in disgrace.

            "Where did that bloody git learn to Disappearate, anyway?" Ron muttered as he gingerly tested a large bruise that was spreading over his right eye.

            "Same place he learned the Cruciatus curse," said Harry shortly, referring to one of the common torture signs that had been found on the victims of the killing sprees.  The same killing sprees that had marked the return of the Dark Mark, of the very fear that Mr. Weasley had spoken off at the Quidditch Cup last year.   The papers had been full of statistics and stories and awful, gory pictures.  The Muggles were baffled, but the Daily Prophet had been known to ask one question of late: _What is You-Know-Who's Next Move?_

            "I thought we agreed we wouldn't discuss this anymore," intoned Hermione from her corner.  Her year five spellbook was abandoned, facedown on the floor, and she looked small with her knees drawn up to her chest and her hair billowing around her downcast-head.  As had become the tradition, all the friends had met at the Burrow for the last two weeks of summer vacation, and as had become the tradition, they had spent the time nervously discussing the oddities of the current situation.  Apart from traditions, the entire wizarding world had been on alert this summer and every bit of every article had been digested and again digested until even Hermione couldn't think rationally.  It was clear the whole ordeal scared her quite a bit, but she was stubbornly not allowing her fear to show through.

            "Hermione, we simply ran out of new things to talk about.  Malfoy, however unpleasant, is something new to discuss.  Although, the ones I really want to talk to are up at the castle- Hagrid, Sirius, Lupin, even Dumbledore…they've all been out of contact all summer!"

            "Harry, I know.  We all know!  But there isn't anything that we can do about it until we get there, so lets have a few more minutes of peace before we rush headlong into what promises to be a tumultuous year."  Crossing her arms huffily, Hermione turned so she was directly facing out the window and proceeded to ignore Ron's murmured comments about "High and Mighty vocabularies".

            When the time came for them to change into their robes, Harry and Ron did so rather quietly.  No one spoke much, all thoughts ahead half-an-hour to when they would quite possibly get some answers at last.  Hermione, who was already changed, took her time retrieving her spellbook from the floor.  Everything and everyone seemed to be torn between wanting to stay in an uninvolved, uninformed state, and wanting to rush to the safe, warm castle, get some answers and some advice, and begin figuring out how to undo everything that had been done.  But the time for decision was there, and all three suddenly realized the reason for Mrs. Weasley's tears at King's Cross.  Even though they were still children, they no longer had the privilege of being treated so.  It was go time.

            They hurried off the train and in the direction that the crowd jostled them, searching over the heads of students for Hagrid's bulky form.  The weather was a bit rough, and a light rain had started down as Harry, Ron and Hermione darted back and forth through the students, squirming their way round and round, until, finally, Ron spotted him.

            "Hagrid!" he called, waving his hands over his head.  "Hagrid, over here!"  Hermione and Harry at his elbows in seconds, the group fought over to where the giant of a man was standing, unusually quiet.  The first years hurried past, unconcerned with the suspicious behavior, but Harry, Hermione and Ron were alert in seconds.  As he turned to face them, the beaming smile they had expected was nowhere to be found; Hagrid was positively disheartening, and looked very near to tears.

            "Oh, hello all you.  I've missed you, I have."  His voice was soft and low and something bordering monotone.

            "Hagrid!"  Hermione threw herself at him in hug-form.  "What's wrong?  We've been writing to you all summer!  No one's answered our letters, no one's told us anything!  All we've had to go off of were Daily Prophet articles!"

            Hagrid gripped Hermione tightly, tears showing themselves now.  "You and me both, love.  You and me both."  Hermione looked up, her face a mask of confusion.

            "What do you mean?" probed Harry.  "Haven't you been…you and Dumbledore and…and Snuffles…" Hagrid was sobbing now, and tears poured down on Hermione's head, mingling with the raindrops already there.

            "Something's gone wrong, kids…and it's really quite terrible.  I can't…can't explain it, but you'll see soon enough.  Once you get up there, you'll see."

            Ron, Harry and Hermione stared up at their friend, trying to read between his shaky lines, but at the moment, the carriages at the front of the line were taking off, and they had to sprint to the back of the line to find one that was empty.  As they clambered in, Hermione bit her lip and Ron and Harry stared confusedly at one another.  Silence ensued. 

            "What was all that about?" asked Ron finally, looking worriedly at Hermione, who was fighting tears.  Hagrid's cryptic message had shaken them all up.

            "I don't know, but I bet we'll find out soon," Harry intoned dully.  The beautiful castle was coming into view through a small window sullied by raindrops.  As the hordes of students piled up the steps and into the magnificent entrance hall, everyone seemed to notice the slightest of slight differences.  It was very odd, but the castle seemed almost too warm…as if the temperature had been raised just a few degrees.  At any rate, the chill of the rainy air was whisked away quickly, and there was little dallying as the sea of black hats sorted itself into four tables.

            "Well…" said Hermione slowly, shrugging off her cloak and sliding into a chair, "Nothing seems out of the ordinary, yet…" She quickly closed her mouth as she surveyed the head table with Ron and Harry.  The normal three seats empty- Hagrid's, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher's, and Dumbledore's.  Everywhere around them, students were shedding their extra clothing and calling greetings across the room, and Hermione, Ron and Harry shifted impatiently, hoping for the normal silence to spread across the hall, announcing the appearance of the Headmaster and the beginning of the feast.  They didn't have long to wait.

            Slowly, in a movement like a ripple, mouths closed and voices stopped vibrating.  But the quiet was different, unnatural and confused.  Harry whipped around, and found that his voice was no longer working, either.  He tried to turn and exclaim to Ron, but his vocal chords seemed frozen, and his heart was turned to ice.  The man making his way towards the head table was not Albus Dumbledore.

            He was tall, and wiry, with thick blonde hair that lay across his forehead in a staggeringly dignified manner.  His mustache was thin and twisted above a malevolent grin, and his robes were neatly pressed, with heavy ornamental embroidery wrapping around the hems. His dirty, beaming smile almost took over his angled face as he caught the gaze of several miserable-looking teachers, but they all pushed back their chairs and stood as the stranger mounted the platform.  As much as he didn't want to, Harry felt his knees jerk, and he was suddenly standing up, with his eyes respectfully down and his hands respectfully folded.  On either side of him, Hermione and Ron popped up as well, eyebrows knitted together in perplexity.  Nothing was of their own accord- they were being sickeningly controlled.

            The next shock sent Hermione back into the battle of the tears once more.  The tall man had changed his course on the platform- he was bypassing the empty chair that everyone had expected him to go to, and settled himself perfectly in the dead center.  The Headmaster's seat.  There was a crack of joints as the students were thrown back into their seats, and then the man began to talk.

            "My name is Professor J. Echion, and I am your new headmaster.  Welcome back."

(*)

            Later, as Hermione looked back on that night, she realized that it was one of severely mixed emotions.  However upset, however horrified she may have been, the closure was welcome and relieving.  There was a basis, a square one, something to start on, something to fix.  And even though she cried in front of Harry and Ron twice that evening (something she didn't like to do) she was so pleased that she finally knew what she was crying about.  The cruel "welcoming" speech Echion had delivered still managed to give her chills.

            "Many of you many remember your previous headmaster, Professor Dumbledore." The name was spoken darkly with sardonic undertones.  "Well, he has…stepped down from the position, and left expressly detailed instructions as to the running of the school and his predecessor, me!"  Professor McGonagall looked as if she were biting her tongue, and her eyes flashed darkly as Echion let out a little laugh, continuing on.  "Classes will resume, with a few carefully tailored changes here and there, and the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes will be run by me, as well.  Now, on with the opening ceremonies!"

There was a gaggle of wet first years standing by the door of the Great Hall, and they filed in, some with tears in their eyes.  Echion lined them up, military style, and Hagrid sadly slipped in behind them, to his seat at the head table. Every head in the hall was craned to look for the special sorting hat and stool, but McGonagall resignedly stood up, yielding her clipboard and quill.

"This year, I will call out your name, and you will be given a house assignment by Professor Echion.  Asherly, Sarah!"

There was a loud buzz of voices, and everyone looked confused.  A few first years, whose features told tales of older siblings in the school, were sending distressed glances in the direction of the house tables.  Every person second year and up was glaring and whispering, outraged, to their neighbor.  Actually, everyone was a bit of an overstatement.  Several Slytherin students looked suspiciously unaffected, Mister Malfoy among them.

Perhaps the oddest spectacle of the new year, thus far, had to have been the sorting itself.  As each student approached Echion to be sorted, he would first examine them psychically, a process that was disturbingly not unlike Muggle slave auctions of decades past.  After the child had been put through that particular hell, they were magically tested, and asked to perform several different spells in front of the entire hall.

Harry thought briefly back to his first day of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  He knew that, like himself at that time, many of the first years were still digesting the shock of there even _being_ a wizarding world.  Therefore, he felt very sorry for all the poor, blundering kids who were unprepared and mortified.

As a finale to the show, each student was asked about their family name, history and their connections to the wizarding world.  Hermione seethed as the open and outright prejudice was exercised.  It was unsurprisingly not hard to see the Slytherin favoritism, and Hermione was not alone in her convictions.  Professor McGonagall's mouth was in a thinner line than ever before, and Hermione would have wagered on the fact that Echion was again utilizing his mysterious magic to keep her under control. 

Finally, all of the students were sorted, and plenty of worse-for-the-wear children were sitting gingerly in seats among sympathetic upperclassmen, ears still burning for shame.  The usually grandiose feast was a meager meal that looked as though it had been prepared half-heartedly.

Harry picked morosely at his limp greens while Hermione tried to comfort a little girl next to her who had burst into tears.  The girl was a Muggle-born sprite who was begging Hermione to take her home to her mother.  Hermione turned to Ron and Harry for help, but both shrugged rather helplessly, wondering what she was expecting them to do.  As the girl's tears subsided, the plates began to clear away (no one felt much like eating) and Echion addressed the crowd once more.

"Goodnight, my new friends and acquaintances. This promises to be a year of intricate discovery.   Discovery begins tomorrow morning at six o'clock.  If you are partial to breakfast, I suggest you come down earlier than that in order to get something to eat." 

With those horrible words, he bowed deeply to them all and disappeared.  Apparently the Disapperation shields had been dismantled.  With a weary sigh, the teachers invisible restraints popped, and they began shepherding the children to the common rooms, nervously hushing any complaints.  Passwords were handed out, knowing looks were exchanged, and first-years' tears were wiped away before every teacher filtered back to their own offices.

"Well, er, I'm your new prefect," announced Hermione to the group of first years that she was showing the rooms to.  "I hope you realize that if you ever need anything I will be here to help you out.  I know tonight has been tough and scary, but all you need is a little rest, and things will look much better in the morning."

Hermione hustled the boys up their staircase, being careful to pretend that she had never been up there before.  She showed them how their trunks had been brought up by the house elves and reminded them to set their alarm clocks for early the next day.  The girls, who were patiently waiting on the landing where the staircase split, smiled when they saw her.

"Are you going to sleep in the same room as us?" asked one small girl hopefully, holding lightly onto the corner of Hermione's robes.  She recognized her as the one who had been crying at dinner.

"No, I'm sorry, but you girls get a room all to yourself!  And I'm right down the hall here, see?"  Hermione led them into their dorm and pointed to the fifth year's doorway, a couple paces away.

"Well- okay," murmured the girl.  A couple of the other ones looked on the verge of tears, too, and were looking around the room apprehensively.  Finally, one of them threw herself across the bed in a huff.

"Girls, what's wrong?" Hermione asked gently as the attitude spread.  They all sat down, and the same girl that had done all the talking so far began to sniffle.  "What's your name?" 

As Hermione plopped down on the bed next to her, the girl sat and brightened a bit.  "I'm Hope."  She grinned a bit and self-consciously twisted one of her braids around her finger. 

"Well, Hope, my name's Hermione.  I know that at first, everything around here is strange and new and frightening.  But I have been in this school for four years, and believe me, once you get into the swing of things, it'll turn into your favorite place.  Just give it a little time, give those friendships a chance to happen, and soon, you'll be begging to stay for the holidays!"

As the young girls shared giggles and smiles, Hermione consoled herself by thinking that, in all strictness, it wasn't _really_ a lie.  After all, what she had said was certainly true by normal standards.  Yet, as she closed the door on the now-chattering first years, she couldn't help wondering how long those girls would be satisfied with the illusion they had been given.  For Hermione, it was already gone.


	2. Burning

Ron watched worriedly as Hermione descended the burnished staircase

_Author's Opening:There has been quite a gap between these chapters, but now that I have made some definite decisions on plot and whatnot, I'm ready to make a commitment.Get yourselves ready for some steady updates!_

_This installment is dedicated to my dedicated and super-talented BETA reader, Arabella, and, as with everything I write, to my father._

Ron watched worriedly as Hermione descended the burnished staircase. Her face was squished up in worry, and, in spite of the heat, she held her shoulders in a hunched position, as if she were hugging herself. Harry, too, had put down his cards (they were attempting to play Exploding Snap) and was regarding Hermione warily as she came over to the couch. Both of them waited for her to say something, about anything, but she seemed quite content to stare at the fire for the time being. Ron sighed.

"Hermione, are you okay? Listen, we need to talk. This whole thing is really, really…bad." The air was ready for the sarcastic comment that _should have come flying through at the last remark ("Eloquent, Ron, seriously,") but Hermione nodded and wrenched her eyes towards the boys with effort._

"Yes, we definitely need to talk. This is horrible. I've never felt more uncomfortable in a place I used to think was home." Hermione pulled her legs up underneath her and looked around sharply, breaking out of her pensive attitude.

"Were you guys being…jerked around, before?" Harry got himself odd looks from this comment and hastily went about explaining. 

"I mean, controlled. My knees just contracted and reflexes were working and I was standing up. I didn't _want to be standing up, but I was. And then I couldn't talk to either of you-"_

"Yeah, me too!" said Ron eagerly. "It was just like the Imperius Curse! I bet that's what he's doing."

"It's couldn't have been the Imperius Curse, Ron, because Harry's immune to that." Hermione looked to be fighting back a 'You should have known that.' "But that brings us to another interesting point. Where is Dumbledore? I mean, there was absolutely nothing in the Daily Prophet all summer about him resigning. None of the teachers will even speak of it! I tried to speak to Professor McGonagall, but she started talking over me quite loudly."

"Well, the Daily Prophet's been less and less accurate every day. But…I mean, I guess it explains why Hagrid was so upset. I _know that Dumbledore wouldn't step down. And if he was away on business about Voldemort then he would leave Professor McGonagall in charge!" Harry was massaging his head, aware that his friends were biting back queries about his scar. All of a sudden, Hermione clapped a hand to her forehead and cursed under her breath. The outburst made the boys snap to attention._

"Do you two remember last year, when we were in the hospital wing after…everything…when Dumbledore was trying to convince Fudge that You- that _Voldemort was back, and Fudge said that he would contact him as to the running of the school? Oh, I know he's been sacked…what if he was sacked?" Hermione laid her head in her hands and tugged on her hair tightly. Ron watched Hermione's gradual breakdown with a mixture of realization and concern. He put a hand on her back and moved it back and forth a couple of times, trying to comfort her._

" Calm down. Fudge wouldn't be dumb enough to put a total stranger in charge of the largest wizarding school in Britain. He's dim, but not the only one who has a say in decisions like that. It has to be something else. I wish Dad wasn't away with Bill right now…he might know a bit about this. Still, there's an explanation somewhere, and we need to start looking for it." 

Hermione sighed deeply, nodded, and concentrated on the feeling of Ron's large hand tracing her spine and shoulder blades. He seemed not to have noticed that she was no longer hysterical. It really was rather nice…gave her funny chills and jumps in her stomach. 

Suddenly her head was spinning and the fire was leaping up to meet her tired eyes. Ron caught her head as it lolled forward in sleep, and the slight jerking motion woke her just as quickly. 

"Sorry about that," she muttered, reddening. "I guess I better head up, then. We'll continue this in the morning?"

"'Night, Hermione," called the boys quietly. 

As they climbed the stairs, Ron stretched, yawned, and pulled at his collar.Harry, too, was noticing how stuffy it seemed to be in the common room that night, but in light of the current circumstances, the temperature change was the last thing on his mind.

***

The next morning Hermione was up earlier than anyone else, and that was saying something. It was still dark out as she rummaged in her trunk (she hadn't even unpacked yet) and pulled out some slightly wrinkled robes. With a quick Pressing Charm and couple of splashes of cold water, Hermione was ready to go help the girls down to the Great Hall. As she went down the hall, she caught a glimpse down the staircase and saw Ron and Harry sitting near the portrait hole. She was quite proud that they were awake.

The girls were bravely pulling on robes and brushing their teeth with heavy eyelids. Hermione cast a couple of Lighting Charms around the place, to try and make it seem later, but the flickering light seemed to aggravate the sleepy attitude. 

Hope was ready first, and smiled sweetly at Hermione for a greeting. At last, they were all prepared, and Hermione led the line down the confusing sequence of corridors that led them to the Great Hall. 

The Hall was almost balmy as they all filed in. Hermione showed the girls how the food was served up to the tables, then set out to find Ron and Harry, wondering why they hadn't been able to wait for her. She found them down near the other end of the table, whispering frantically.

"There he is, in the flesh. I can't believe they weren't kidding. I really wanted them to be kidding!" Ron put his fist down slightly harder than necessary, and Hermione followed his gaze anxiously. 

There, sitting right between Malfoy and Crabbe, was a new boy. He had gold hair and a fitting smirk. He sported robes of bright green and was staring around with an expression of great distaste. The new addition just seemed to be too much of a coincidence. Hermione shuddered.

"See him over there? Wonder where he came from, eh? Fred and George said there was a new kid in Slytherin. Couldn't even be bothered to come to the feast last night." Harry spoke through a mouthful of almost-cold scrambled eggs. Despite the early breakfast time, all the food seemed as though it had been prepared in advance and then left out for some time. Hermione tore her eyes away from the Slytherin table.

"Well, he doesn't look very happy to be here, whatever the reason. Perhaps he's smart enough not to trust Malfoy?"

"Nice try, Hermione," muttered Ron. "Look at them, they're practically twins. I'm sure he isn't going to be anyone we'll want to know." 

Hermione nodded slowly, shuddering again. The heat made her feel uneasy, as did everything about the present situation. Her odd feelings must have shown on her face_ because both Ron and Harry were watching her cautiously out of the corners of their eyes. She cleared her throat loudly._

"Well, I'm going to go help the first years get their schedules and get them off to class. See you later, then?" Without waiting for an answer, Hermione scurried away to the other end of the table, breakfast untouched.

The morning meal finished up quickly after that. Harry was dismayed to see that there was only one class he wanted to go to less than Potions, and he had it first thing in the morning. Harry and Ron trailed Hermione while she dropped the first years off at Herbology, and then the trio set off for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

The room seemed too dark to learn in and warmer then any other in the castle. Even Trelawney's shady lamps gave off more light then the sparse candle settings of Echion's abode. The students filed in uneasily, and took seats as near to the back as possible. As Hermione shuffled sideways along the desks behind Harry and Ron, she caught a glimpse of bright green among the masses of black. The new boy.

He was sitting in the back, his smug smile in place even as he flipped through a black-bound book. Ron and Harry must have seen him, but pushed past without word. Hermione, concentration destroyed by those vibrant robes, burst out before thinking.

"What are _you doing here?" The room was mostly quiet by this point, and there was a tension as everyone waited for an answer. Harry and Ron were watching the situation carefully, ready to bound forward at any sign of Malfoy-like behavior. Hermione was wearing a shocked expression and most likely beating herself up mentally for speaking at all. The new boy looked up coldly._

"Being the deputy Headmaster, I'm sure I needn't answer to anyone, certainly not you. However, I will respond for the sheer necessity of authority being established. I am going to be assisting my father in teaching these lessons, and therefore will be treated with the same amount of respect you bestow upon him. Please take this opportunity to remind yourself that I am on a much higher level than you are, and any further outbursts after this point will not be taken lightly. Now take your seats, the Headmaster will be here any moment."

The quiet of before was positively noisy in comparison to the absolute dead silence now. Hermione was too stunned even to become upset. She allowed Ron to lead to her a seat and mechanically took out her text, parchment and quill. Ron spoke first.

"Deputy Headmaster? How in hell? He can't be older than sixteen! Ugh, I want to rip his head off… so stuck-up and pompous, playing around in the role book as if he were born in a classroom! Look at him, strutting around like that."

Harry joined Ron's indigence. "Stupid git." 

Hermione looked like she might be ready to add her opinion, but at that moment Echion strode into the room, embroidered robes billowing importantly. He joined his son at the front of the class and a sturdy hand was clasped over a powerful shoulder.

"This is Chad, my son. He is to be treated as you treat me- is that quite understood?" His face was incentive enough, and the students' heads mutely moved up and down. "We will start lessons today by telling you to forget everything you've already learned. It's time you children began some practical work. Granger, bring me that vial."

Echion pointed to a clear glass vial that contained a lavender liquid. It was magically suspended over a counter next to Hermione's desk, and she stood to retrieve it. As she reached out and took hold of the vial, there was a flash of glowing light and a high scream. When everything was calmed down a bit, there was seen a shattered vial on the floor, and Hermione, clutching her injured hand in her free one, tears streaming down her face. Echion stood, twirling his wand and frowning slightly.

"I-it burned me, Professor. There was a curse on it, I think, and it seared right through my skin!" She was crying and obviously angry with herself for it.

"Yes, Granger. It did sear through the skin of your hand- there was a curse on that vial which was to burn the hand of anyone who touched it and had no Echion blood. You should not go about grabbing things you know nothing about."

Ron and Harry were glaring menacingly with their mouths set in straight lines, but mysterious magic was being exercised again, and the entire class was held in their seats. Hermione struggled to her feet, still nursing her right hand. 

"But I don't understand. You _told me to grab it."_

"Ah, yes, and you trusted that there was nothing odd about that vial. Not a wise choice, silly girl."

Hermione's pained look was turning to one of anger. Hermione knew that she sometimes lost control of her emotions a bit, but she also knew that she had done a lot of amazing things that a lot of people her age hadn't had the chance to, and was proud of that.She was a great many things, but "silly little girl" was not among them.

"Well, honestly, I never thought to mistrust a _teacher!"_

Ron, at this point, much wanted to lean over and bop Hermione upside the head. While she was as smart as the books allowed her to be, she wasn't showing much clever work today. Her constant outbursts were making his stomach hurt, and bad. How could she be so dim as to continually put herself in danger? 

The class, still frozen, waited for Echion's reply.

"That, my friends, will be the first lesson of today. Stop trusting. Everything you've depended on and believed in for all of your lives- all of that must be erased. No one is your friend and everyone is your enemy. Remember those words, and hold them near. As soon as you have that learned, we'll begin the real teaching."

With that, Echion swept out of the room, and the class visibly slumped with his exit. Harry and Ron rushed over to where Hermione was slowly sinking into a seat, her hand curled into a ball.

"Here, let me see." Ron took her hand and gently uncurled it, wincing when she whimpered slightly. There was an ugly red stripe across her palm, shiny even in the low light. Ron looked at Hermione biting her bottom lip and turned over his shoulder to see Harry's reaction. Harry's face looked a bit like Ron imagined his own: a mixture of fury and concern. Hermione swallowed hard and removed her hand from Ron's.

"Oh, this is stupid. I'll just get down to Madame Pomfrey and have her fix me up…I'm sure she'll have something for the pain.

"I'm not supposed to let you do that." Three heads snapped up to see Chad standing over them, an unreadable look on his face. "The Headmaster wants students to learn from their mistakes. Any injuries received by fault of the student are to be braved without any magical assistance."

"You've got to kidding! That wasn't her fault- how was she supposed to know it had a curse on it-"

"She worships teachers, why would she think they were trying to hurt her?"

Ron and Harry both took rapid steps forward, passing Hermione and closing in on Chad. She sighed and tried to dart past them to create a barrier, but she reached out with the wrong hand and fell back, feeling ridiculously weak and quite angry. Chad replied to all the chaos rather simply; he held up a hand and everything stopped; memories of the speech he had given earlier came flooding back.

"You will not speak ill of the Headmaster, here or anywhere. Your friend needs medical assistance; I'm not supposed to let you take her, so you'd better use some secret passageways. Hurry- you won't have any trouble in the infirmary."

There was a moment of muddled silence, in the seconds before anyone had time to fully comprehend what he was saying. The mixed messages he sent were so befuddling that even Hermione was trying to decided if he really wanted them to go or not.

"Is the Head-" Ron couldn't bring himself to say it. "Is Echion watching the hospital wing? Is it safe for us to go?"

"I said, you will have no trouble in the infirmary! Now GO, and hurry. Her hand will scar if you wait much longer."

Quickly but warily, Hermione led the boys past Chad and out the door. No one dared to look behind them as they scurried through the hallway and around the corner. They stopped at the passageway hidden by a suit of armor that they had discovered through the Marauder's Map, and Hermione was helped through.

The trio didn't speak as they rushed through the corridors. It didn't matter, though, because none of them were sure what to say yet. They all suddenly felt extremely watched and violated. 

By the time they reached the infirmary, Hermione was out of breath and Ron had to hold open the door for her. She seemed to be sweating profusely, and her voice was higher than normal as she explained her injury to Madame Pomfrey.

"There was a small accident in Defense class, and I grabbed a vial that I shouldn't have." _That's for sure, thought Hermione bitterly. "I just have this burn here."_

Hermione held out her palm, and Madame Pomfrey examined it gravely. Under normal circumstances, she would have been all aflutter, frowning in a put-out manner and muttering about dangerous school activities. Today, however, she was taking deep breaths, carefully considering every issue and trying to subtly calm the atmosphere. Harry and Ron noticed something was wrong, but neither of them said anything. The idea that anything or everything could be monitored had put them off a bit, and they had suddenly become quite introverted. Madame Pomfrey walked over from her office with a grave face.

"My dear, I'm going to have to be quite blunt in an effort to save time. There was something more than a simple Searing Curse on that vial you touched. There were also a few highly questionable curses that were designed to leave the bearer of the burn ill. You'll need some immediate work, and we may need to pump your stomach." Even the way she spoke was different; Harry and Ron looked at each other, then sprang back to the scene unfolding in front of them.

"Pump my stomach! But there isn't anything in my stomach!" Hermione's face, which had been red from exertion moments before, had now gone pale. 

"There's nothing in your stomach that you put there. I'm sorry, but we'll need to hurry."

"I just can't…I'm a prefect, I need to be back to help the first years through their first day, and besides, I don't really know if I'm up to having my stomach pumped- isn't that rather drastic?" Hermione was now slowly turning green.

"I assure you that this is not an optional or precautionary procedure. If you need any reassurance, I'll have to have you talk to Chad Echion later, but for now you _need to come with me."_

Hermione, finally realizing the gravity of the situation, slid down off the examining table and hurried behind the curtain Madame Pomfrey had been motioning to. Madame Pomfrey pulled a box from her cabinet and began to hustle after Hermione, but impatiently stopped when she saw Harry and Ron, still frozen and quite unsure.

"Boys, I think it would be best if you went back to your classes now. The morning break is over. Hermione will be fine."

Harry and Ron looked at each other and wondered if there was even time to argue this point. Everything was foggy and confused, but in the end Harry spoke up.

"All right, we'll go, but we'll be back later. We'll bring books and stuff. Everything will be fine!"

Hermione stuck her head around the curtain and waved bravely. In truth, Ron looked much more worried than she did, and rather conflicted as Harry propelled him out of the infirmary and down the nearest corridor.

"Why were you in such a rush to get out of there? Aren't you worried at all? She's getting her bloody stomach pumped- ugh, can you even imagine? Harry, that's not a pleasant experience, she can't go through that by herself-"

Harry held his right hand over Ron's mouth and threw out his other arm to halt their walking. "Calm down there, mate. I think that there's another conversation we need to be having right now. Didn't you think it was odd, what Pomfrey said about the reassurance? Hermione should to Chad Echion- now why would she send her to him?"

Ron sat for a moment, mulling everything over. Finally, he dropped the pensive face and shrugged. "Let's go find out." 


End file.
